


Remember

by gmariam



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Episode follow up, M/M, Mystery, Or maybe it is, not what it seems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22094326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gmariam/pseuds/gmariam
Summary: Information, revenge—it didn't matter. It wasn't Ianto's concern. He was a gun for hire and did what he was told, putting his many skills to use in the art of robbery, blackmail, kidnapping, and assault. Even if it felt wrong.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 26
Kudos: 94





	1. Part One

Part One

"You're clear, Ianto," Addis spoke quietly into the comms. His accent placed him from near Glasgow, but Ianto knew the man was from somewhere much further away. "Sioned's got them distracted up front, Dolion and Raft are covering the exits. Grab it now."

"Copy that." Ianto moved into position, treading quickly down the hall toward his destination: a small, dingy office in the back of the pawn shop, where the 'irregular' merchandise was kept. Things that Rip Morrison didn't want to part with unless he knew he'd get enough out of it to make it worth giving up, as well as things he'd stolen or acquired in dishonest ways, like blackmail and murder.

Security was nonexistent. Ianto wondered if Rip trusted his people that much or was really that thick. He walked in, strode straight to the cabinet behind the desk, and had what he needed in ten seconds. If Morrison couldn't be arsed to lock up his goods, he didn't deserve to hoard them. Ianto was half tempted to take the neural relay in the cabinet as well, but a flash of conscience stopped him. He was working a job, and that job didn't include stealing without purpose.

Then again, sometimes he wasn't sure what the purpose was, other than proving that he could do it.

* * *

"We're putting together a transmat pad, remember?" Addis reminded him later that night when Ianto asked why they needed that particular piece of tech from that particular pawn shop. "Morrison stole that piece from us six months ago, so we stole it back."

"What do we need a transmat pad for?" Ianto asked, feeling like he'd missed an important memo.

"To get off this fucking planet, remember?" Addis slapped his shoulder, and Dolion nodded in agreement.

Ianto didn't remember, since he'd just joined the gang, but it made sense. Cardiff was becoming overrun with crime, both human and alien. It was rampant with corruption, rife with poverty, and stinking of pollution. Addis had told them about worlds where the air was clean, where people were safe, where everyone had food and water and a home. He was determined to leave Earth by any means possible, including building his own transmat pad.

Considering how much he'd been through, Ianto wondered if he should leave Earth as well. Maybe he'd find his purpose among the stars. Until then, he continued as the newest member of Addis's gang, putting his many skills to use in the art of robbery, blackmail, kidnapping, and assault.

* * *

"Why not ask her where it is first?" Ianto suggested at their next mission briefing. They were going after another piece for their transmat pad, from an Arcturian named Ash Zorander. She knew where all the alien tech in the city could be found: who was buying, who was selling, who was hoarding it and where.

"She won't tell us," said Sioned. "Don't you know about Ash?"

"Sorry, still the new guy," Ianto replied dryly, taking another drag on his cigarette. He was out of practice, inhaled too deep, and coughed; Dolion sniggered at him.

"She's completely psychotic," Sioned told him. "And if she thinks we want it, she'll cling to it with her cold, dead hands and take it to the grave. There's no way she'll tell us anything out of the goodness of her heart because you ask nicely."

"Let me talk to her," Ianto insisted. "I can get her to talk." He didn't know why he was so sure he could, but he didn't want to see someone tortured for information. "What about money?"

"She doesn't care about money," Dolion told him, blowing his own fag right in Ianto's face. "Only power."

"Despite the pretty exterior, she's an extremely violent criminal, Ianto," Addis said, squeezing his shoulder. "Remember what she did to Finn? And Shaye? We owe her for that, and we need that part. She's the only one who knows where it is, so we kill two birds with one stone. You and Raft go in, take out everyone else in the room, and bring Ash to me for the rest."

Ianto nodded as images of Finn, his jaw broken, and of Shaye, with two black eyes and a shattered wrist, floated across his mind. No, he didn't want to end up like them. Yes, he'd bring Ash Zorander to Addis and let him handle it. Information, revenge—it didn't matter. It wasn't Ianto's concern. He was a gun for hire and did what he was told.

Even if it felt wrong.

* * *

The bank was local, with only a few employees and a relatively simple security system to bypass. They hit it at the slowest point during the day, taking only eight people hostage during the mid-morning lull. Sioned complained about the stun guns Ianto had suggested, wanting to shoot up the place for real, but he pointed out that leaving behind a body count of innocent customers would make it much harder to disappear.

So they went in with masks and stun guns and left with enough money to buy a small mansion. It was both exhilarating and terrifying to see so much money laid out on the table back at the Joint.

"Why do we need so much?" Ianto asked. Addis threw an arm around his shoulder.

"Because we're going to buy our next part, remember?" he said. "We're doing this one the honest way, like you suggested."

Ianto did not point out that they had robbed a bank to do it the honest way; for some reason, it almost made sense, and at least no one was getting hurt.

"Why pay?" grumbled Dolion. "We can totally take this guy."

"I don't want to piss him off," Addis replied. "He's got a lot of connections. If we rub him wrong, half the alien underground will be after us."

"You promised us a fancy dinner, you know," Sioned pointed out, unconcerned about their next mark or the alien underground. Raft looked at the greasy burger in his hands and nodded in agreement.

"We'll have the best dinner money can buy," Addis told her. "A night on the town for the best crew in Cardiff."

Stealing money for food wasn't why Ianto was working for Addis's gang, but then again, he'd never had caviar and champagne before either.

* * *

Eventually his luck ran out and Ianto found himself on the sharp end of a knife near the docks. Addis had sent him and Sioned to negotiate payment for the part they needed, because Alister Crane was someone he didn't want to anger with kidnapping, assault, or theft. Ianto offered Crane the money they'd lifted in the bank robbery, hoping for a clean exchange. The arsehole rejected his offer, then tried it on with Sioned, who punched him in the face. Before Ianto knew what was happening, they were in the middle of a knife fight with Crane's three henchmen, and he ended up with a six-inch gash on his upper arm that needed stitches and a dead body that needed dumping.

After tossing Crane's goon in a nearby pond, Ianto's first instinct was to have his doctor patch him up, but he didn't have a doctor, of course. He was a street thug now. He asked about the A & E, because his arm was painful and bleeding, but Dolion laughed and reminded him they were wanted by almost every authority in the city; showing up at the hospital for treatment was practically the same as walking into the police station with his hands in the air.

They went back to the Joint and Sioned stitched Ianto up as best as she could; he was certain it would scar, but at least he wouldn't bleed over everything anymore, and maybe it wouldn't get infected if he kept it clean. She was quite beautiful as she leaned over Ianto's arm, her hair tickling his face. She even smelled nice, and she threw a hell of a punch in a fight. When she leaned closer to kiss him, he let his lips brush against hers but then pulled back, smiling at her to soften the unspoken answer. There was laughter from the doorway.

"He plays for the other team, Sioned," said Addis. "Come on, I'll be on yours."

Sioned winked at Ianto, patted his arm, and left him there to finish bandaging it. He closed his eyes and imagined a pair of bright blue eyes and a blinding smile leaning over to kiss him, but it was only a fantasy.

Wasn't it?

* * *

It only took three moves: a head butt to disorient, a hard right hook to stun, and a sweep of legs to send the blowfish crashing to the pavement. Rexx Norwood fell hard to the ground, and Ianto was on the alien in a moment, flipping him over, pinning his hands behind his back, and tying them tight. When the blowfish struggled against him, Ianto pushed his knee against Norwood's back, the blowfish's face pressed against the asphalt. He felt a grim satisfaction when the alien groaned and his gills flared, followed immediately by an uncomfortable sense of guilt; he relaxed his hold and demanded compliance in return for a bottle of water.

Dragging Norwood to his feet, Ianto marched the blowfish over to where Addis was waiting behind a shipping container on the docks. He untied the alien's hands and gave him a bottle of water as Addis watched in amusement. He had his favorite dagger in hand and a smirk on his face. "Good work, Ianto. Even if you are too nice."

After six slow, agonizing cuts of Addis's dagger, Norwood told them where he had hidden the last part they needed for their transmat pad, though Ianto wasn't sure why they needed an electron bomb. "Kill him," Addis said before striding off to retrieve it. Rexx held out his hands, begging for his life. Ianto took out his weapon, released the safety, and pointed it at the alien's head.

He couldn't do it.

Shaking his head slightly, Ianto aimed slightly to the right of the blowfish and pulled the trigger, grazing the alien's left shoulder. Norwood fell to the ground and lay still, but Ianto knew he was still alive, and that made him feel better. All they'd wanted was information; no one needed to die.

He returned to the Joint with the others to celebrate, hoping no one had noticed what he'd done. They were almost finished with the transmat pad and had everything they needed but one last item. And it would be the hardest one yet. For some reason, it filled Ianto with fear and dread.

They needed Torchwood. They needed the Rift.

* * *

"Remember the plan," Addis told him, hand on his shoulder and squeezing tight as if to emphasize the point. "Take out Harkness and Cooper, quick but alive. We might still need them. Get in, get out, and once we're done with them, we blow them sky high." He handed Ianto the electron bomb and laughed; Dolion and Sioned and even Raft laughed with him. Ianto wasn't sure what was so funny.

"And how am I supposed to take out two trained Torchwood agents _without_ killing them?" Ianto asked. He'd questioned their approach to several of their other marks, but had mostly complied. Torchwood was different; Torchwood was dangerous. "You know they're good, especially Harkness. He's been around for years."

"Not as good as you," Addis said. "You'll have the element of surprise. When they hesitate, and they will, take them out. Use your stun gun if you want. If Harkness is a threat, you can shoot him in the head. Don't worry about him. As long as we have the girl, you can get in, get to the Rift Manipulator, and get what we need."

Ianto didn't want to shoot anyone, let alone Torchwood. Torchwood was legend on the streets, particularly Harkness. They said he strutted around in his big coat like an arrogant prick, but everyone knew he was a ruthless and effective prick. He'd go after anyone, human or alien, that he thought was messing with his city. The gang told stories about him, about the grim figure who stood on rooftops staring over the city at night, like some sort of brooding fictional superhero.

Something told him this job wasn't going to end well, but Ianto followed the plan and spent the next morning watching the Torchwood base, waiting for Harkness and Cooper to leave. He suspected they'd go out for lunch, and if not, then he would deliver something to their sad little tourist office to bring one of them up.

Sure enough, they left not long after noon, walking down the quay, neither one of them talking. They seemed upset, wrapped up in their own problems. He vaguely wondered why there was only two of them and what they were upset about. And he found himself watching Harkness more than Cooper, admiring his arse before forcing himself to look away. Harkness was a mark, nothing more. He'd force them to take him down to their base. He'd get the power they needed for the transmat pad, grab the box Addis wanted from their secure archives, and set the electron bomb to blow the Rift wide open, taking Harkness and Cooper and all of Torchwood with it.

Then he'd leave Earth behind for good. He had no reason to stay, and maybe he would even leave the gang and start over living an honest life, free of aliens and crime.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short story in three parts where all is not as it seems. Thank you for reading! And thank you to Avaantares for looking this first part over ages ago! :)


	2. Part Two

Part Two

Once Harkness and Cooper left, Ianto slipped easily into the tourist office and locked the door behind him so they didn't suspect anyone had entered. Hiding in the back room with his gun ready (and a stun gun in his coat), Ianto glanced around, his curiosity getting the better of him. It was old and outdated and somewhat grungy, yet it also felt familiar, like someplace he'd once worked, years ago. It did not feel like the entrance to a secret underground base.

Soon enough he heard the door open, and Harkness and Cooper entered, arguing about something. It was a heated conversation yet it seemed natural for them, as if they argued all the time. Ianto waited for them move away from the door, then stepped out with his gun raised, flicking the safety as he quickly moved from behind the counter.

"Stop," he growled, feeling awkward and uncomfortable as he pointed the gun at them, like it was something he'd done before but didn't want to do ever again. "Don't go any further."

Cooper turned first and gasped. "Ianto!" she exclaimed, stepping toward him with her arms out as if to embrace him. "You're back!"

He jerked his gun at her, motioning at her to move back toward Harkness. Harkness who stood completely still, his eyes wide in surprise and his hands in the air. It was not the response Ianto had expected from either of them—and how did Cooper know his name? Maybe he could use it to his advantage.

"I'm back, yes," he said, even though he had no idea what she was talking about. "I need to go downstairs and have a look around."

"Ianto?" she asked, looking confused. "What's wrong? Why do you sound like that? Where have you been?"

"Busy," he snapped, unnerved by her questions. His head was filled with memories of the last month, tracking down the parts for their transmat pad. Yet interspersed were images of Harkness and Cooper, of the base below them, of other nameless faces. It didn't make sense, since he'd never been there before. "Turn and walk toward the lift." He wasn't sure how he knew there was a lift and not stairs, but he did.

Cooper looked at Harkness, who had at least wiped the pathetic look of shock off his face. Now he appeared shrewd, calculating. Ianto sensed danger. "What's going on?" Cooper asked, directing the question at both of them.

"That's not Ianto," Harkness told her. "At least, not our Ianto."

"That's because I don't belong to anyone," Ianto snapped. "I said turn around so we can go downstairs."

"Who sent you?" Harkness demanded. "What do you want?"

"Rift energy," Ianto replied easily. "And you've got plenty. Now move or I'll shoot."

Harkness took a step forward, hands raised before him once more. "Ianto, whatever's going on, we can help you. We can fix this." He was clearly going for a distraction, because Ianto saw Cooper move to her left, as if intending to come at him from the side, or even from behind him. They were good, he'd give them that; he hadn't even seen them exchange a look. But he was better. He could outplay them easily.

He pretended to be confused, then focused on Cooper, as if she were the bigger threat because she was actively moving. Behind him, Harkness stepped closer, close enough to rush him at any moment. Ianto remembered what Addis had said about shooting Harkness: as long as they had Cooper, it was fine. He kept his eyes on Cooper, but his ears on Harkness.

"Ianto, please put the gun away," she said, using an irritatingly calm voice. He didn't like it directed at him, not when she usually directed it at others. Or so he imagined. "You don't want to do this, this isn't you. We can figure out what happened, we can—"

"We can go downstairs," he said. He felt Harkness move behind him, turned, and fired straight into the man's chest. "Right now."

Cooper shouted as Harkness collapsed. Ianto felt a sharp tug in his gut, that he had shot a man at such close range—that he had shot _this_ man. He forced his guilt and disgust aside, however, and grabbed Cooper by the arm. She swung at him, and he slammed the end of his gun against her head, hard. She slumped against him as he dragged her to the lift.

"Ianto," Harkness murmured as he lost consciousness. It was all Ianto could do to not be sick; he literally felt nauseous from the guilt. The controls to the lift were operated by a palm print. Ianto grabbed Cooper's wrist, but she pulled it away from him with a snarl.

"Use your own," she snapped. Ianto glanced at the security pad, shrugged, and set his hand down. It opened. He frowned, trying to figure out why it worked for him, but then Cooper was pulling away again. He twisted her arm and forced her into the lift, taking a deep breath to center himself as it descended to the Hub, a feeling of grim anticipation and nervousness clouding his mind.

Cooper struggled some more, but Ianto pressed the gun against her neck and she stopped. He tried not to stare at her, to reach up and touch her face. A trickle of blood ran down her cheek and jaw, a large bruise blossoming on her temple. Why did he feel like he'd hit his own sister when he didn't even have a sister? And why did he feel so bad about it?

As they stepped through the large cog wheel door, Ianto couldn't help but stare at the huge space that was Torchwood: at the computers, at the large machine in the center, at the water and the battered sofa and medical bay and the circular window with the funny writing on it and —

 _"Pa beth a wneuthum, O Myfanwy,"_ he murmured as a dinosaur flew above them, screeching shrilly as if it knew what he'd done upstairs.

"You killed Jack," Cooper said, sounding both shocked and furious. Ianto dragged her to a chair, told her not to move, then grabbed a pair of hand clamps from a nearby desk, probably the ones they used for Weevils. He pulled her arms behind her and put them on, then stepped back, rattled. Yes, he'd killed Jack Harkness. He'd hit and restrained Gwen Cooper. Why did it make him feel so wrong, so ill?

"I don't need him," Ianto told her. "You're enough."

"Ianto!" she exclaimed. "Of course you need him! You love him! What's going on?"

He stared at her, then turned away. "I don't know what you're talking about. I've never met Harkness before and I have no regrets about killing him."

"I don't believe you," she said. He whirled and stepped forward, hand raised to strike her again, but he stopped. He couldn't. Of course he had regrets about shooting Harkness. It felt wrong, like a betrayal of the worst kind. Something licked at the edges of his mind, that maybe Harkness wouldn't bleed out upstairs, or that maybe once Ianto had what they needed, Cooper could save him. He shook his head of the ridiculous image of Harkness gasping back to life; there was a hole in the man's chest that no one came back from. Yet the hope remained, that maybe Harkness was different. That he would survive.

"I need what I came for," he said. "So if you'll excuse me, I have to get to work. Be quiet or you'll have a matching bruise on the other side." It felt terrible to talk to her that way, but he set it aside, literally shaking his whole body as if he could fling the guilt away.

He walked over to the Rift Manipulator, thinking of the diagrams he'd studied to better understand it. Where Addis had got them, he had no idea. Gazing at the complicated machine, Ianto realized they were not very good. Yet he knew immediately where to look and what to do, as if he'd done it a dozen times before. Taking out a metal cylinder from his coat pocket, it took no time at all to charge the device with Rift energy.

"What is it?" Cooper demanded. "Is it a bomb?"

"No," Ianto told her. "It's a battery. This is the bomb." He took a small disk from his other pocket, no larger than his fist, and set it inside the Rift Manipulator before closing it.

"Ianto!" she exclaimed. "You can't detonate the Rift Manipulator! It'll blow the Rift wide open and destroy all of Cardiff!"

"Doesn't matter, I'll be gone," he said. When Addis had given him the bomb, every bit of Ianto had rebelled. But Addis had reminded him of all the bad things that had happened to him with Torchwood, and Ianto knew it was the right thing to do: destroy it all and leave Earth. He held up the battery, charged with enough Rift energy to power the transmat pad for all of them. "Thanks to this, I'm leaving the planet."

"Ianto, please," she said. "Think about what you're doing. Think about Jack. Please, go to him. He can help you remember!"

Ianto pointed the gun at her forehead, almost pressing a circle into her skin. "Harkness is dead, and I don't need his help," he ground out, his hand twitching from how wrong it felt: Harkness dead, Cooper tied up. He did need help, something inside was screaming for it. But he also felt the driving impulse to finish the job, to start over on another world with Addis and Sioned and the others. "But I do need yours. Where's the secure archives?" He had to find the wooden box for Addis before he could leave.

She didn't answer, gazing blankly past him. He asked again, and she shook her head. "I'm not telling you anything. Talk to Jack."

Why was she so insistent on him talking to Harkness when he was bleeding out upstairs? "Tell me where it is or I'll shoot you, too."

"I don't believe you. This isn't you, Ianto!" she pleaded. "You would never hurt Jack, or me, or thousands of others. Think of your family! You can't kill them!"

He frowned. What family? Did she know about Addis and the gang? They were the closest thing to family he had. Yet a vision tugged at his mind, of a woman with brown hair and eyes like his. Of two kids, skipping off with a couple of quid when he visited. Was it a memory, or a suggestion, something he'd wanted but never had?

"Shut up!" he growled. "I don't have a family. I'm not in love with anyone. I don't care about you, or Jack, or Rhiannon…" He trailed off. Who was Rhiannon? His head was starting to throb and he squeezed his eyes shut. "Just shut up!"

He glanced wildly around the Hub, found a scarf lying over a computer, and hurried to wrap it around her mouth. He couldn't listen to her anyone, she was messing with his head and he needed to stay focused. He was supposed to call Addis and let him know he had the energy they needed, that he'd found the box, that he'd set the bomb to explode. Addis and the others would pick him up and they'd use the transmat pad they'd spent weeks putting together to teleport out of Cardiff and off the planet. That was the plan. That was what he remembered, what Addis had told him.

Then why was he remembering someone named Rhiannon?

Ianto needed to get out. Forget about the wooden box, how important could it be? He turned, hesitating when he saw a picture of two people taped on a computer. Why did they look familiar? What was happening to him? Was it some kind of mind control technology that Torchwood had, that they used for defense? He walked away and left Cooper behind, shouting through her gag and struggling in her chair; she'd probably knock herself out trying to escape.

Hurrying from the lift into the tourist office, Ianto stopped in his tracks when he came face to face with Jack Harkness standing at the door. He was alive, covered in blood, but without a wound on him, standing calmly with his arms at his side. He cocked his head, studying Ianto, who felt nothing but wild panic. What the hell was going on? How was Harkness alive? And how was Ianto going to get out, get the battery to Addis before the bomb blew? He tried to raise his gun, but his arm felt weak. He didn't want to shoot this man, he'd already shot him and he knew how much it pained Jack to come back, to die more than once…

"Who are you?" Ianto whispered, terrified of the thoughts and memories that couldn't possibly be his. "What are you doing to me?"

"I'm not doing anything," Harkness replied, his voice steady and even. "You're the one who burst in here and shot me. I should be asking you the same question. So who are you?"

"My name is Ianto Jones," Ianto replied. "But you already knew that. You knew me. How?"

"Who sent you?" Harkness asked instead. "Who do you work for?"

"Addis Osveta," Ianto told him without hesitation. He was too confused to think clearly.

"Never heard of him," Harkness said. "And I know most of the big names around Cardiff. You don't work for him, you work with me."

"What?" Ianto stepped back even as Harkness took a step forward, his body language much more relaxed than Ianto felt. "I don't work with you, or with Torchwood. Torchwood ruined my life!"

"How?" Harkness asked. "How did Torchwood ruin your life? Because the last time I checked you were one of my best field agents, busy saving the world. You have a flat in Radyr, friends down at the pub, and a gorgeous boyfriend, too."

"I don't have a boyfriend! And Torchwood…it…" Ianto struggled to remember, but he couldn't. He only knew Torchwood had taken everything from him and left him to fend for himself on the streets. "It ruins everything," he said. "That's what Torchwood does, it destroys people and leaves them broken and alone!" It was dramatic, but he remembered Addis telling him the same thing. He couldn't remember how, though.

"But you're not alone," Harkness said, taking another small step closer. "Ianto, you have to listen to me. I know you because you work for me. You joined Torchwood One four years ago, and you've been here in Cardiff for two years. We work together with Gwen, protecting the city. And we don't normally shoot each other," he added with a crooked smile.

That smile. Those eyes. Ianto suddenly recognized the man he'd seen in his mind's eye after being knifed. It was Harkness, but that had been long before he'd ever set eyes on the man. How could he know what Harkness looked like? Why would he imagine kissing the man before him?

"I don't know what's going on," Ianto said, his voice low and confused. "But there's a bomb downstairs, and I need to go." He tried to move past Harkness, but the other man stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"I can't let you go," Jack said. "You need to remember first. And then you need to disarm that bomb."

"I don't need to remember anything!" Ianto snapped, and pushed his arm away. "I don't know you. I don't work for you. And I don't love you!"

Harkness flinched like he'd been slapped. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and when he opened them, he looked broken but determined. He stepped closer, moving slowly. Ianto felt suddenly and inexplicably caught in a spell, unable to resist.

"But I know you," Harkness said, speaking slowly and deliberately. "I know you don't want to hurt Gwen. She's important to you, even when she drives you mad. I know you don't want to destroy the city. It's your home. You like going to your local for a pint and watching rugby and shouting at the telly. I know you could never hurt your family. Your sister, and her husband, and—"

"Rhiannon," Ianto whispered, shaking his head as the ache grew worse. Jack took another step forward, but Ianto didn't move. "Her name is Rhiannon."

"Yes!" Harkness exclaimed. "You even said her husband's not so bad, and I know you love your niece and nephew. You don't want anything to happen to them. Or to your old neighbor with the cookies, Ms. Wilson. Or your friends down at the pub. Or the girl at the coffee shop you flirt with to annoy me." He came closer. "It doesn't, because I know you don't want to hurt me. You don't want to kill me."

"Because it hurts," Ianto said. And it did. His head was pounding, and he held his free hand to his temple, trying to squeeze the pain away. There was too much going on in his head, too many voices and visions—people and places and loved ones. Names he recognized but didn't remember…Tosh…Owen…Lisa. Images of blood and destruction, of friendship and love, of blue eyes and a bright smile leaning over to kiss him…to caress him and whisper words in his ear…to hold him and make promises they could never keep…

"Remember," Harkness whispered. He was standing chest to chest with Ianto, but Ianto did not move. He did not back away, did not raise his weapon. He shook his head, whether to resist the suggestion or will himself to remember, he wasn't sure. He only knew his head was pounding so hard he thought it might explode like the bomb he'd planted below them. He didn't want to die, though, not now. Not when he was about to leave…no, he couldn't leave, he loved the man before him, he knew he did. Why couldn't he remember?

"Jack?" he asked tentatively, using the other man's name to try and break through the fog in his mind "What's happening? I don't know what's real and what's not anymore. Why can't I remember?"

"I don't know," Harkness said, his voice gentle. "But we'll fix this, I promise. You know that you've forgotten now, that's a start."

"It's nothing," Ianto told him. "It's all blurry and jumbled and my head hurts from trying to remember."

"It'll be all right," Harkness murmured. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," Ianto answered. "I don't know why, but I do. I feel like I always have."

"And I trust you," Harkness said. He took Ianto's hand and Ianto did not pull away, because it was the first thing in ages that felt _right_ about his life, holding this man's hand. He squeezed it, needing to know why it felt so right, desperate to remember.

"We will get through this," Harkness said. "Because we have been through worse, and we are always stronger together."

"You've said that before," Ianto said. "Haven't you?"

"Because I know it's true," Harkness said. "You're mine, Ianto Jones, and I will find you and bring you back." He leaned forward to kiss him, and Ianto found his eyes closing on their own as their lips touched, lightly at first, then with increasing pressure when Ianto did not resist. And then it was as if he'd been struck by an electric shock that flowed from the top of his sore head all the way down to his toes. He felt it in every cell of his body, and with it came a flood of memories, casting away all he'd ever known.

He didn't work for Addis Osveta and some criminal street gang, he worked for Jack Harkness. He was Torchwood. He didn't want to run away and leave the planet, he wanted to stay and protect it, because that was his job. He loved Cardiff, and his family, and his job. Jack had come back for him and Ianto would not leave him, not ever. Together they were stronger, together they could do anything.

Ianto kissed him again as the memories slowly returned, guilt and grief, anger and relief mixing and mingling, his heart and mind still a jumble of confusion. But he knew he was Ianto Jones, that he was Torchwood, and that he loved Jack Harkness.

He also knew exactly what had happened and who had done this to him. And he would stop them once and for all.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully it's starting to come together and make sense. Part three to finish the story will be up later this week. Thank you for reading and sharing any thoughts you might have!


	3. Part Three

Part Three

"Wow," said Jack, as he stepped back with a dazed look in his eyes and a familiar, crooked smile. "That was some kiss."

"Yes, well." Ianto cleared his throat, more than embarrassed. "Making up for lost time and all that."

"Three of the longest days of my life," Jack said. "We've been worried sick, turning the town upside down looking for you."

"Three days?" Ianto asked. He moved away, shaking his head and trying to make sense of it all. "But how can it be only three days? It's been weeks for me. A whole month!"

"You went out for lunch on Monday and never came back. We tracked down every clue we could, but ran into a dead end every time. Do you remember what happened?"

Ianto nodded slowly. "In a way, yes. I remember what I did over last several weeks, but I don't know how I could have if it's only been three days." It occurred to him that he wasn't the only one feeling confused and upset at that moment. "Gwen! She's still downstairs. I tied her up."

Jack turned and strode back into the lift. "Then we should probably let her go before she gets mad."

"I hit her," Ianto said. "She's going to hate me. I'm surprised you don't."

"Of course I don't," Jack told him as the lift descended. "She'll understand, just like I do. You weren't yourself."

"I wasn't someone else," Ianto told him. "I was still me, Ianto Jones. Only it's strange, because I didn't work for Torchwood. I worked on the streets, for a criminal gang lead by Addis Osveta."

"Still haven't heard of him," Jack said.

"That's because he's not real," Ianto told him. "Even though it feels like everything that happened was real."

"Maybe some of it was," Jack suggested.

"I hope not." Ianto shook his head as he hurried from the lift through the cog door. "Bad enough that this was."

He ran over to where he had tied Gwen to a chair, relieved to see that she hadn't toppled over and knocked herself out. She watched him with wide eyes as he took the scarf from her mouth and then began undoing the ties he'd put on her arms. As soon as she was free, she scrambled away from him toward Jack, watching warily as she rubbed her wrists.

"I'm sorry," Ianto said quietly, feeling sick with guilt over what he had done to her. "I should never have hurt you—"

"And you wouldn't, if something hadn't happened to you," Jack said. He placed a hand on Gwen's shoulder. "It's him now, he's back. He remembered."

Gwen walked up to him, gazing into his face. "Is it really you?" she asked, running a finger across the stubble on his face he was only now noticing. He nodded, feeling the tears prick in his eyes at the sight of the bruise on her cheek, the hesitation in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. She stared at him, until without warning her fist came up and caught him on the left side of his jaw, sending him staggering back. Jack grabbed Gwen's arm, but she shook him off and threw her arms around Ianto's waist and hugged him tight.

"I'm sorry too," she said with a brittle laugh. "Let's get some ice and you can tell us what happened."

"There's no time," Ianto said, stepping away, the memory of what he'd done to them both still strong. He hoped they had truly forgiven him. "I have a deadline. I have to call Addis or he'll be suspicious. And then we have to come up with a plan to stop him for good."

"For good?" Jack asked. "Is this someone we've met before?"

"Yes, but we made ourselves forget," Ianto told him. It was becoming clearer the longer the disconnected pieces of his mind had to settle. "Remember when we lost two days back in the fall? That's when we first met him."

"Addis?" Jack said. "Why don't we remember?"

"We had Retcon in our systems, remember?" He cringed at the irony of his statement. "What I mean is, Owen tested us and we'd all taken Retcon. That was so we'd forget him. Adam Smith."

"Adam Smith?" asked Gwen. "Who's Adam Smith?"

"He's Addis Osveta," Ianto said. "I don't know who or what he is, but he exists only through memory. Without it, he's not real, he can't exist."

"What happened the first time we met him? Do you remember that too?"

Ianto nodded. It was all coming back, everything, even the days they'd Retconned from their memory. "In the fall, he infiltrated the Hub, pretending to be a member of Torchwood. He manipulated our memories into thinking he'd always been on the team. He dated Tosh. He took Gwen's memories of Rhys, and gave me terrible ones…" Ianto trailed off, remembering the memories Adam had fed him, the horrible visions of killing women, of hiding their bodies, of screaming in the rain. He took out his weapons, setting them at the nearest station to be rid of them before he hurt someone else. Clearing his throat and ignoring Jack's look of concern, Ianto continued.

"Once we realized what was happening, we wiped our memories to remember our original selves, but also to destroy him. We erased all the CCTV footage, files, everything. And things went back to normal."

"But it didn't work," Jack guessed. "Because somehow he's back."

"There was an artefact we were investigating when he appeared, a box with symbols on it. We put it in the secure archives. He grabbed me when I went out for coffee…he wanted me to get it…" Ianto shut his eyes, dual realities warring within his mind: being attacked and kidnapped, but also of being approached and asked to join the gang—Addis, Sioned, Dolion, and the others. Both memories felt real, and he pressed his head from the pain of it.

"Are you all right?" Jack asked. "You don't look so good."

"Jack," Gwen chided.

"I don't feel so good," Ianto told her. "Jack said I was gone for three days, but I have a month of memories with Addis and his gang. It's like there's a war in my head, and it hurts."

"Let's get you something for it," said Jack. "And then we'll figure out how to stop him."

"Ianto, you sit down, sweetheart," Gwen said, "Jack will get you something from downstairs and I'll get you something to drink."

Ianto was in too much pain to do anything else but give her a brief nod. He laid down on the battered sofa, his forearm across his eyes as the blood pounded at his temples. He breathed deeply and tried to separate the different sets of memories assaulting his brain: memories of a teammate named Adam, of killing young women, of running with a criminal gang for the last month, of being tied up in a dark room for three days. He put the fake memories in a box and shut it tight, and yet…there was still that doubt, that maybe they were the real ones. Maybe it was the other memories that were false…

"What happened to your wrists?" Gwen asked, joining him with a cup of hot tea. He sat up and looked down at his hands, noticing for the first time that they were red, raw, and dirty. He felt a sudden fatigue and hunger come over him. Touching his arm, he was surprised—and yet not surprised—to find that there was no old knife wound, no stitches, no scar. None of it had happened. He'd been held captive the entire time, living a life of crime in his head. And yet, this was real: he had broken into the Hub, shot Jack and attacked Gwen, and set a bomb—

"Shit!" he said, jumping up and bolting past her toward the Rift Manipulator. "Jack! We need to diffuse the bomb!"

Jack came running up the stairs from the medical bay, tossing aside the icepacks he'd got for Gwen and Ianto. He skidded down to where Ianto had wrenched open the door and was staring at the disk he'd placed there, trying to remember what Addis—Adam—had told him about it.

"Do you know what it is?"

Ianto squeezed his eyes shut. "I think it's an electron bomb. We got it from a blowfish on the docks. I was supposed to kill him, but l let him go…" He looked at Jack, his stomach dropping in fear. "But it wasn't real, was it? It couldn't have been. Which means I don't know if it's actually an electron bomb or something else."

Jack stepped up and scanned the disk with his wrist strap. "Energy signature is consistent with an electron bomb. I can neutralize an electron bomb with my wrist strap."

"But?" asked Ianto. "There is a definite 'but' on the end of that sentence."

"If it's not, I could end up setting it off." He turned back to Ianto and Gwen. "You should leave."

"No," they said simultaneously.

"If it goes off—"

"We all die," Ianto finished.

"But I'll come back," Jack said. His voice dropped. "You won't."

"Don't rub it in," Ianto said with a roll of his eyes that about shattered his sore skull.

"I can make it an order," Jack said, his tone growing more firm. Ianto looked back at the bomb, tried to separate the real memories from the false. He remembered Rexx Norwood, remembered Addis's knife and letting the blowfish live; yet he also remembered a car ride, the restraints coming off his wrists, being given the disk and a hand on his shoulder… _"It's an electron bomb, a goodbye present for Torchwood…"_

"It's an electron bomb," said Ianto. "I remember him giving it to me in the car when he brought me here."

"You're sure?" Jack asked, sounding anything but certain.

"As sure as I can be with two sets of memories and a pounding headache," Ianto told him. "Do it, before it's too late."

Jack looked at Gwen, who nodded, though she looked as nervous and scared as Ianto felt.

"You'd better be right about this," Jack murmured. "Since you won't have to grow back together."

"Still not fair," Ianto murmured back, and they exchanged a small smile. Jack pressed several buttons on his wrist strap. Like always, Ianto had no idea what they did and if anything actually happened, but the bomb attached to the Rift Manipulator went dark and fell to the floor, clanking dully on the metal.

"Clear," Jack breathed. "Damn, I don't want to do that again."

"Me neither," said Gwen. "Now what?"

They went back to the sofa, where Ianto and Gwen sat and held the ice packs to their face. Ianto took the pain medication Jack had found downstairs and hoped it would help clear his mind. He tried to focus, to think of something that could defeat a memory. He had nothing.

"If we Retconned him away last time, how did he come back?" Gwen asked. "Maybe that can help us come up with a different way to stop him."

The image of the wooden box flashed across Ianto's mind, of searching for something in the secure archives and finding the box, recalling the name Adam out of the blue. "I think it must have been me," he confessed. "I was looking for something in the secure archives on Monday and found the box. It must have triggered a subconscious memory. I remember thinking about the name Adam and making a note to look up the files on the box later. As I was walking to lunch, I started to remember him, a man with ginger hair, and that's when he appeared. When I was taken."

"So we not only have to destroy our memories of him, we need to destroy _him_ ," Jack said. "Otherwise he will keep coming back every time someone remembers him."

"We can't just kill him, Jack," Gwen protested. "We need to contain him."

Ianto shared a glance with Jack, sensing the upcoming argument. "Gwen, he's spent the last three days holding me prisoner and putting thoughts in my head. We can't contain him. We need to destroy him before he does this to someone else."

"How does he do it?" she asked instead. "Maybe we can stop him from using whatever it is he uses to put memories in other people."

"He touches them," Ianto said. "Every time I'd ask a question, he'd touch my shoulder and tell me to remember. He did it in the car on the way here. So unless we put him in a straight jacket with a muzzle and gloves…"

"Do we have one?" she asked. Jack shook his head.

"I'm with Ianto. A creature like this is too dangerous. We have no way to contain something that messes with memory, Gwen. None."

"Then we hand him over to UNIT," she said. "They have to have ways, and more people."

"And the first person he touches in UNIT could be the way he works his way up to the top and takes over," Ianto said. "Jack's right. But first we have to capture him. That's what we did last time, we locked him up so he couldn't change our memories. I assume he disappeared after we took the Retcon to forget him."

"Then what?" asked Gwen. "Do we Retcon ourselves again? Because I like that idea even less."

"It didn't work," Ianto said. "He came back. Retcon doesn't completely erase memories, it buries or overrides them. And we can't keep doing it over and over, remember and forget. It'd be like some kind of twisted time loop."

"Been there, done that," Jack said with a grimace. "So we get him here, lock him up, then figure out a way to wipe him permanently from our memories and erase him from existence."

"Is that even possible?" Gwen wondered. "To permanently erase someone's memory?"

Jack blew out a breath. "Been there, done that too. It's possible with something like a neural block or a memory worm, but we don't have either. If it's the only way to stop this thing, though, then we have to find a way."

"Before he makes us forget what we're trying to do," Ianto murmured. "What about the box? We were looking into the box when he appeared on our team the first time. He wanted me to get the box from the archives this time. There must be a link between them. Maybe if we destroy the box, we destroy him. Last time we wiped our memories to forget him, but we kept the box. Why did we keep the box?" Ianto wondered how they had overlooked such an obvious connection.

"Because it's human nature to want to remember," said a voice from the steps.

Ianto jumped up and Jack whirled around, his Webley out. A young man was walking up the stairs toward the sofa. He was short with ginger hair and looked sickeningly familiar.

"Hi team," he said. "Remember me?"

Jack backed away even as Ianto stepped forward, wishing he hadn't set his gun down earlier. "Stay away from them!" he hissed. "I know who you are. _What_ you are."

"Oh really?" said Adam. "Are you sure about that? Because last I remember, you were working the streets, stealing and kidnapping and killing." He sneered. "You liked that last, remember?"

"I didn't kill anyone," Ianto ground out. "None of it ever happened."

"But how do you know for sure?" He stopped walking and tucked his hands into his pockets. Ianto blinked twice, because it was Addis now, standing before him in his ripped jeans and wool coat, with dark hair and beard. "How do you know all _this_ isn't the false memory? That Torchwood isn't the one messing with your mind?"

"Because Torchwood protects people from creatures like _you,"_ Ianto snapped.

"I'm not the one who killed your girlfriend, remember?" Addis said. "I'm not the reason Tosh and Owen and hundreds of others are dead." He paused, an ugly look on his scarred face. It was all Ianto could do to stop himself from charging the man for even mentioning Tosh's name after what he had done to her. "It's why even more people will die someday. It's Torchwood. Torchwood ruined your life, Ianto. Over and over and over."

"You're wrong," Ianto breathed. "You're manipulating all of this, just like you did before."

"I'm the only one telling the truth. Why would you go back to Torchwood? We have the power we need for the transmat. We can leave this hellhole of a planet and start over."

"That's enough," Jack growled, stepping between them. Another blink and the man had red hair once more. "Stop talking and turn around. You're going back to the cells."

"Jack," said Adam. He didn't move, and his voice dripped sincerity. "You know I'm right. Torchwood's ruined your life too! Stuck here on the Rift, waiting and waiting, year after year. Watching everyone you love die. Eventually you'll forget them all, even the memories lost to time, like your father."

"Shut up," Jack snarled. "Just shut up. I remember now. I remember what you did, and I know what you're trying to do. It didn't work last time and it won't work now."

Ianto wondered what Adam had done to Jack. As if reading his mind, the creature spoke to him. "I took it, you know. The last happy memory of his father before he died. Come with me and I'll return it to him."

The look of pain on Jack's face was so raw it broke Ianto's heart. He knew Jack had lost his father in the same attack that had taken his brother. He knew the grief and the guilt that Jack had carried for decades, drawn back to the surface by Gray's return and the death of Tosh and Owen. To learn that Jack's last real memory of his father was gone and that he could help Jack get it back was agonizing temptation. Jack deserved happiness more than anyone Ianto had ever met; he deserved that memory to take with him into eternity.

"No," said Jack, desperately shaking his head as he looked at Ianto. "Don't even think about it. It's not worth it."

" _He's_ not worth it, Ianto!" Adam snapped. "He's a conman, a cheat, a liar. He sacrificed the last memory of his own father so that he could kill me! I can give it back to him, if you come with me. The transmat pad is ready—we can go anywhere. You can be anything you want, with anyone you want."

And just like that, the temptation gone, because Adam was wrong. He was wrong about Jack, and about Torchwood, and wrong about what Ianto wanted. He didn't want to leave the planet and start over. He didn't want to leave Torchwood, and he could never leave Jack. Torchwood was worth it. Jack was worth it.

"No," he said, standing up straight and bracing himself with the conviction of his realization. "I know what you are and what you do. It's over, Adam. You will never win."

Adam sighed as if he was disappointed. "Well, can't blame a guy for trying. It was nice working with you again, Ianto." He took a gun from the pocket of his leather coat and pulled the trigger in one quick move. But Jack was faster—and closer. Adam fell, blood pooling from his chest, and his shot went wide, grazing Ianto in the arm. Another bullet from Jack's Webley sent the man toppling to his side, eyes glazed and unseeing.

"Is he dead?" asked Gwen from behind Ianto. He shook his head, not sure and hesitant to approach. Jack took a step forward and they both called out to him to stop. The body dissolved into sand right before their eyes and triggered another memory for Ianto.

"The box!" he said. "The box was full of sand. We need to get it back into the box and destroy it. Immediately, before he comes back."

Gwen looked at them helplessly. "Hoover?" she asked, and Jack nodded.

"Ianto, get the box—Gwen, suck him up. I'll make sure he doesn't go anywhere. We toss it all in the incinerator."

"Will it work?" she asked.

"It has too," Jack said. "It's all we can do."

Ianto nodded and dashed into Jack's office, his hands shaking as he punched in the code for the secure archives to find the box that had triggered his memory. It was small and carved and he hurried back into the main part of the Hub, grabbing his gun in case he needed it and hoping he wouldn't.

"We have to get all of it," he said. "If any went through the grates…" He left the rest unsaid, that the consequences could be dire.

"But won't it stop him if we destroy the box?" Gwen asked.

"Let's hope so," Jack said. He took the hoover and started to gather all the sand in the area. Ianto watched carefully, his weapon ready. Jack looked as tense as Ianto felt; Gwen looked confused and upset.

Jack went over everything he could several times, and then they took the hoover and the box, the bomb and the battery and went down to the incinerator, tossing all of it in without hesitation. They stayed and watched, all three of them standing side by side, silent and still as the flames danced before their eyes. Ianto half imagined he heard an agonized scream; Jack took his hand and he wondered if they had heard it as well.

"I'm going to flood the Hub." Jack finally spoke when they returned upstairs. "Grab everything you might need–field kits, scanners, extra ammunition—anything you can think of. Ianto, let UNIT know in case they pick up anything."

"What do you mean, flood the hub?" Gwen asked. "You don't mean with water?"

"Radiation burst," Ianto replied. "Followed by a forty-eight-hour quarantine period."

"Radiation!" she exclaimed. "What about everything here in the Hub? Or everyone above us?"

"The surface is perfectly safe, it's all self-contained," said Ianto. "We'll let Myfanwy out, there are no Weevils staying with us at the moment, and the last aquatic alien died last month."

"How can we come back if you flood the Hub with radiation?" she asked. "I thought it took decades to break down?"

"The Hub not only can irradiate itself, but decontaminate itself. Hopefully a radiation burst will take care of anything we missed."

"And we get a much-needed two-day vacation!" Jack's smile was forced, but he was right, and it was exactly what Ianto needed after his experience.

"Tell that to the rest of Cardiff," Gwen muttered as she started to gather her things and Jack went into his office. Ianto glanced down at his right arm; the bullet had grazed it, tearing his coat and shirt and leaving a searing burn that was beginning to pulse with pain. He glanced toward the medical bay, swallowing the lump in his throat as he thought about how Owen could fix it quickly and effectively.

"Gwen?" he asked quietly. "Could you help with my arm?"

She turned in surprise, eyes wide. "Of course! Ianto, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize—"

"It's fine," he said. "But I should get it cleaned and wrapped before we blast everything."

She followed him downstairs. "You should take some extra supplies and medicine home. Okay, what do you want me to do?"

He talked her through it and let his eyes close as she wrapped it. She was silent until she finished and Ianto opened his eyes to find her studying him.

"What?" he asked. "I know that look."

"Were you tempted?" she asked quietly, glancing up as if to make sure Jack wasn't there, watching or listening. "To help Jack?"

"Yes," he admitted. "To help him get back a memory…yes."

"Were you tempted to leave?"

He smiled sadly. "No," he told her honestly. "That's what changed my mind. He said I could leave Earth, be whatever I want, with whoever I wanted. I want to be here, with Torchwood."

"With Jack."

He nodded and stood up, stretching his arm. "Thank you," he said. "And I'm sorry about everything I did earlier."

She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tight. "It wasn't you, I know it wasn't. I'm sorry you had to go through it. That we couldn't find you sooner, help you."

"It's not your fault," he told her. "I know you tried. And hopefully it's all over and we will never see him again."

She nodded and they parted, returning upstairs. Gwen continued packing anything she would need for forty-eight hours out of the Hub, and Ianto started on all the general Hub maintenance that needed to be taken care of before they locked it down, including releasing Myfanwy. Jack came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I've got everything you might need from downstairs," he said quietly. "The alerts are all set, so grab some gear and we'll lock it down."

Ianto glanced at Jack over his shoulder; he looked troubled. "Are you all right?"

"I should be asking you that," Jack said, stepping back with a small smile. "You're the one who was kidnapped and held prisoner by an alien who manipulated your memories."

Ianto grimaced as flashes of the attack, of a dirty room and restraints and dry bread came back to him. Jack took his hands and caressed his wrists. "Are _you_ all right?" he asked softly.

"I will be," Ianto told him. "Two days off sounds pretty good right now."

Jack nodded. "Mind if I crash at your place while the Hub is locked down?"

"I don't think Gwen and Rhys will take you," Ianto pointed out. "They'd just send you back to mine."

"Is that a yes?" Jack looked slightly confused, and Ianto nodded.

"Of course it is," he said smile. "I could probably do with the company. I'm still on edge, wondering what's real and what's not."

Jack pulled him into an embrace. "We'll get through this," he said. "It's what we do, and we're pretty good at it now. And if you want to talk about it…the last month…"

"You mean, the month that I lived in my head?" Ianto asked bitterly. "I'd rather forget it ever happened."

"We can do that too." Jack said, looking very serious. "If that's what you want, what you need."

"No, I don't want Retcon." Ianto shook his head vehemently. "I feel like that was part of what got us into this in the first place, trying to Retcon him away and failing."

"We needed to go back to who we were," Jack reminded him. "Tosh, and Owen, and you…"

Ianto looked away. "You remember? What I did, the lie detector, all of it?"

"I do. Only you didn't really do those things, like you didn't do all those things you think you did this time."

Ianto knew Jack was right, but it still felt like he had done something wrong. "I'm sorry about the memory," he said instead. "Of your father. I wish there was something we could do."

Jack cocked his head. "Would you have done it? Gone with him?"

"To get that memory back for you?" Ianto asked, and then answered without hesitation. "Yes. Because you're worth it. But you're also worth staying for, and that's where he went wrong."

"Thank you," Jack whispered, his eyes bright.

"Thank you," Ianto told him. "For believing in me again, like you always seem to do."

"And I always will." Jack kissed him, and Ianto once again felt it was the only right thing in his life.

"All right, all right," said Gwen grumbling good-naturedly behind them. "Take it back to the flat. I'm packed and ready."

"Let me get my gear," said Ianto, and he quickly grabbed everything he could think of, shoving it into a large rucksack. He ran through a quick list with Jack while Gwen waited impatiently, and then they finally shut down the Hub and made their way to the lift.

"I know we destroyed the box," said Jack, "but I'm tempted to have us all take the Retcon again."

"There's too many triggers, Jack," Gwen pointed out. "We talked to a lot of people while Ianto was missing. Any one of them could bring back something from the last three days, just like the box did this time."

Jack nodded reluctantly. "Well-reasoned, PC Cooper," he said. "I hate to admit it, but you're probably right."

"And I want to know what to watch for," Ianto added. "In case he ever returns."

"We can't spend the rest of our lives looking over our shoulder," Jack pointed out. They stepped out of the lift into the tourist office. Ianto tried not to look at the blood on the floor. "So I suppose we need to have faith."

"Faith?" asked Gwen. "That's new. For you."

"Faith is believing in something, or someone. And it got us out of this, both times, so maybe the third time's the charm." He glanced at Ianto, who looked away in embarrassment. Gwen rolled her eyes.

"Fine, don't tell me what you really mean. Can we go now?"

"We're all clear," Jack laughed. "Now let's blow this thing and go home!"

Ianto smiled to himself as Jack quoted his favorite movie; for once, it worked. They left the tourist office, locking the door behind them for the next two days. For a moment they stood there, gazing out at the water, then back at the door, as if they weren't sure what to do or where to go. It was mid-afternoon, after all, and normally they would be chasing aliens and protecting the city.

"Well, if you boys don't need me for anything," said Gwen, "I'm going to go shopping and then take a nice long bath."

Jack nodded. "Keep your phone on in case we need you. And your eyes open."

She rolled her eyes at him. "I've been doing this for a while now, Jack. I know how it works." Turning to Ianto, she gave him yet another hug. "Take it easy and rest. You've earned a break even more than us. Jack, take care of him."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied with his mock salute, and this time Ianto rolled his eyes.

"Enjoy your shopping," he told Gwen. "We'll see you in a few days."

"Call me if you need anything," she said. "I mean it. Anything."

"I got this, Gwen," Jack said, putting his arm around Ianto's shoulders. "Go on, go do your thing." She gave them both a long look, as if worried about leaving them on their own, and then with a nod she strode off, taking out her phone to no doubt call her husband. They watched her leave until Jack dropped his arm and took Ianto's hand instead. "Ready to go home?"

"I'm ready for a long shower and some food," Ianto told him.

"Well, I'm under orders to take care of you," Jack said.

"So I heard." Ianto laughed quietly, trying to imagine such a thing. "Think we can handle two days off together?"

"I can definitely handle you," Jack replied with his smirking grin. "And you can handle me, and we can handle each other and then we can—"

Ianto laughed again as they walked toward the car park where he'd left his car three days ago. When he'd come to work with no idea of what he'd forgotten, or what he'd soon forget. Now, it was all a memory, filed away with all the other traumatic experiences he'd had at Torchwood. But this time he would remember. And this time he had Jack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This idea originally occurred to me as something I thought would make a great audio drama. Imagine listening to Ianto during the first chapter, to his inner thoughts about the crimes he's committing as you wonder what's going on. Then imagine hearing his confrontation with Jack and Gwen as he struggles against the impulse to hurt them before remembering who he is. (Seriously – imagine how good GDL would be at that!) Then imagine the reveal as Adam appears at the end, the verbal showdown as he tries to manipulate what's real and what's not real, as he tries to make Ianto leave Torchwood and Jack. Since there is exactly zero chance this could ever happen, I decided to write it. I hope it worked in written form as well as I heard it in my head! I enjoyed writing a follow-up to this episode because it's so easy to bring back Adam given that they kept the box. Not to mention how easy it would have been to trigger their memories somehow. Many thanks to Avaantares, DinoDina, and Tumblr for your help! I suppose it's a somewhat oddball story, but let a girl know what you thought? Reviews keep our hearts beating with motivation to write more. Thank you!


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